No Challenge From Me
by BrokenAmbition
Summary: After Severus becomes a professor, he finds a strange note on his desk with the phrase: “Severus Snape will love The-One-Who-Lives.” First Chapter up.
1. Prologue

Complete summary: After Severus becomes a professor, he finds a strange note on his desk with the phrase: "Severus Snape will love the One-Who-Lives." Snape's canon life with my own twist. This will be from the moment he confesses to Dumbledore, until the moment he finally kisses Harry Potter. (There might be an epilogue, but that depends if anyone reads this.)

Disclaimer: I don't own it. None of it. (I WISH I owned Severus. He'd look really nice chained to my bed… But I don't own him. ;__;)

A/N: Eh, okay, I've decided that this will be HP/SS. That's Harry Potter being involved in a relationship of an EVENTUALLY sexual nature with Severus Snape. That also means, for the slow of mind, that this contains: SLASH. YAOI. Male/male relationships. (I respond poorly to flames.)

This is just the prologue, so it's short. The amount of feedback I get on this (*if* I get feedback, actually) will depend on whether I decide to continue this or not. If I do continue, I will have much longer chapters. 

Staggering into the office of Professor Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was a battered Severus Snape. The long, black robes that had followed him through his school days were tattered and clinging desperately on his thin frame. Had an artist been present at this strange encounter, they might have commented on the contrast that the strips of black fabric made to the pale, off-white colour of Severus' skin. Fortunately for the young wizard's pride, there wasn't anyone in attendance besides the Headmaster. The Professor immediately drew out his wand and pointed it at his former student.

"H-headmaster, I mean you no harm… any longer." The voice, though only a whisper -- and a strangled whisper at that -- managed to fill the room. The intruder collapsed into the nearest chair, his head lolling on his chest as if it was difficult to bear the burden of the mind inside.

Dumbledore nevertheless kept his wand on Severus, his usual twinkling blue eyes cold. The blue in his eyes was vaguely reminiscent of how the surface of a lake looked to one fast-approaching it's hard surface from a very high altitude. Perhaps that's what the ragged man was indeed doing, and falling fast.

"Ah, Severus Snape, my child, what have you gotten yourself into?" The Headmaster replied wearily, though both of them knew Severus Snape had lost his child-like innocence long ago.

Instead of a verbal response, he pulled back the tattered remains of the left sleeve of the cloak he wore. Inside his left forearm was an ugly mark depicting a snake emerging from the mouth of a skull. It was the mark of the enemy of the time, the current Dark Lord, Voldemort. The imprint was called, quite appropriately, the Dark Mark, and was little more than a brand. Lord Voldemort's servants, called Death Eaters, -- and they did savour death as if it were candy -- were cared for little more by their master then he would care for cattle.

"I see." Replied the solemn Headmaster, his attitude at the present moment contradicting everything that students have thought of him in recent years. His face, weathered by the length of his life, had many lines and creases; each of these testimonies to his age, at the knowledge that he had failed his student, had only served to enhance his expression of sorrow. 

"I won't attack you, Headmaster. Summon the Aurors, the Ministry, whomever you wish. I deserve Azkaban." Severus sighed brokenly. Severus was rather used to humiliation -- indeed, it came hand in hand with being a Death Eater, slave to Voldemort.

Dumbledore seriously pondered that declaration for a few minutes, an agony that lasted nearly as long as eternity for Severus. "No." Was his simple response. 

Severus snapped his head up, revealing for the first time a long cut across the lower portion of his throat. Obviously, someone none too skilled had attempted to slit his throat. The Headmaster had to contain a wince at the blood crusted on Severus' skin. It was amazing that the tendons in his neck weren't severed. "Believe me, Headmaster, I am prepared for the Kiss. That is a just punishment for all I've…done."

He eyed the younger man sadly, "No again, I'm afraid. For how does the stealing of your soul through a kiss of a Dark creature make up for the suffering you have doubtlessly caused?"

"Nothing can, Headmaster -- I'm beyond redemption," he responded forlornly. 

Dumbledore nodded sagely and said, "That might indeed be so, might indeed…" His expression grew cloudy and he appeared to be pondering something.

A bitter laugh interrupted his musing. "Surely, Headmaster, you cannot be such a fool! 'Might?' There is no question of it -- no challenge from me." And indeed, this was the way Severus saw it. The only thing he deserved was the thievery of his most prized possession: his soul. He pictured suddenly a scene he had witnessed many times himself, the filching of a soul.

_Suddenly, there was a the feeling of Darkness, of Fear itself. There was not only a feeling, but darkness surrounded the street, the moon, the stars, all light went out. As the light fled, so did all sound. It was if someone had cast the most powerful silencing charm of all. _

Glancing wildly around, a blonde man spotted a Dementor approaching quickly. The man trembled and fell towards the ground, whispering 'No, no…' under his breath. A hand suddenly appeared out of the right sleeve of the creature -- but it was no human hand. It appeared to be a hand that had recently been decaying in water for a long period of time -- grey and scabbed. Slowly, the long, dilapidated fingers reached out and grabbed the man by the neck, pulling him far upward toward whatever lay behind the hood.

The Dementor lowered it's hood, revealing it's head, and all the man could focus on was a black hole where its mouth should have been. All the man could smell was the putrid breath. All the man could feel was the air being sucked away from around him, into the shapeless hole that was its mouth. Then, abruptly, the man knew no more. His soul was completely and irretrievably lost to him. It was indeed a fate worse than death.

Snapped out of his reverie by a polite coughing noise, Severus repeated, "no challenge from me," and stared into his hands.

"Those creatures don't deserve your soul." Dumbledore said, firmly.

"Ah, yes, I had heard you didn't like those creatures much…" he said before he could stop himself.

"I don't believe anyone does, really. The serve the sole purpose of terrorizing people." He paused and then asked, "do you really wish to join the side of the Light, Severus?"

Severus thought for a moment, making sure that this was something he was ready to do. Giving himself freely over to the Dementors was not a promising prospect. "Yes." And he spoke the truth, it was undoubtedly heard clearly in his voice.

"I will offer you two options, then. You can either turn yourself into the Ministry of Magic, or become the Potions Professor at Hogwarts." The twinkling all but returned to his eyes when he saw Severus' eyes widen at such a possibility.

__

"Headmaster, I don't understand --"

"Allow me to elaborate." Severus stopped speaking respectively, though his mouth was still hanging slightly open. Not many people had seen Severus Snape in such a state as that. "You will be teaching on the pretence of spying against me for Voldemort. However, after every Dark Revel that you attend, you will report to me of their goings-on."

There was a short pause before Severus spoke. "I'd have to go back to the Dark Lord?" Dumbledore nodded in reply. "But -- you don't understand! It would be so tempting to just… become one of Them again. I know I would turn around and betray you. I couldn't possibly --"

"Think about it, Severus. You have a good deal of self-control."

_Severus was sitting in a dark room, waiting for someone. It seemed almost claustrophobic with the low ceiling, but the darkness made it nearly unbearable. Fortunately, it was empty. Had there been a chair or two in the room, it might only hold two people. Though Muggles were not technically people, they were the same size._

Suddenly, the door burst open and Wilkes came in with a powerfully-built Muggle man. There was a sudden, incredible adrenaline rush at the thought of breaking this man. He closed his eyes and inhaled the stench of panic, perspiration, and blood.

What would have happened if he had refused Wilkes' proposition hours before that scene? What if he had sternly refused the murder of a Muggle? Were some of the questions that were running around his head. He knew the answer to neither of these questions, but he wished he could find out. Maybe that man would never have died if he had said no. But then again, he might have died anyway.

"The torturing and killing will go on whether or not you forfeit your soul, Severus. But you are in the perfect position to stop _some _of it. Mind you, you will never be able to stop all -- but even if you only ever save one life, it is a life worth saving to someone." Dumbledore said. He had leaned over his desk and put a comforting hand on Severus' shoulder.

Abruptly, Severus seemed to come out of a trance and he shrugged his shoulders, making the Headmaster lift his hand and settle back into the chair. There was a pause and Severus nearly shouted, "They're just Muggles! You just don't understand the extent of their filth."

"Severus," the Headmaster started in a warning tone. "Just because one does not possess magical abilities does not mean that they are vile creatures. They are human, like you and me. Muggles have families; husbands, wives; sons, daughters; brothers, sisters; fathers, mothers."

Now, one might think that to most this statement was common sense. Of course people, no matter what their abilities -- magical or not -- had families, friends. But this was, to Severus, a shocking revelation. The realization that he had sadistically murdered husbands, wives, children and friends was enough to make the bile rise up in is throat. But some part of him had always _known_.

Sensing what was happening, Dumbledore conjured up a bucket, like the ones seen in Muggle households, for him. There was a certain amount of irony in that which was not lost on Severus, though he was concerned more with the acid burning his throat. In a very un-Severus-like manner, he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

"Of course, Headmaster, I'll become your spy."


	2. Chapter One

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Thanks to all my reviewers! I love you all!! This chapter is dedicated to all of you!!!

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Disclaimer: I don't own it nor am I making money off of it. If you sue me, I will be forced to become a hermit and live alone for the rest of my life. I simply could never get back on my feet if I had to suffer from computer-depravation. 

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Chapter One:

Severus Snape was lying on the white cotton of the sheets in the Infirmary, staring at the ceiling. Thinking back to his school days, he remembered that he had occupied this very bed numerous times before. Mostly for Quidditch accidents -- he had never really gotten the hang of a broom,-- but sometimes for various pranks that he had pulled.

Though his expression was turning sour, he recalled one incident that had him burning with humiliation for months afterward. Clenching his fists, his mind went back to how he had felt waking up after a concussion on the school lawn -- butt naked. He had been hanging upside down at the wand of one James Potter and had obviously been dropped on his head. No one had even bothered to call the school nurse, even after it became clear he had been knocked out. Transfiguring some leaves into clothes, he had gone down to the common room.

However, Severus was never very good at Transfiguration, and the clothes had turned back into leaves and fallen off at precisely the moment he had entered the common room. Of course his classmates had laughed, it was the last day of O.W.L.s and the fifth years were of good-humour. 

The next day he had turned Potter's hair green with a potion slipped into his pumpkin juice. It wasn't quite payback, but it was slightly satisfying to see everyone in Gryffindor laughing at Potter. Even his best friend, Black, had laughed at him. Some might say that he was jealous of Potter's popularity, but that was not the case. It was only that like most people, Severus didn't particularly enjoy being singled out and laughed at.

"Professor Snape, how are you feeling, dear?" Madam Pomfrey called, interrupting his musing. 

Pausing for a moment before he responded, Severus took the time to ponder over his new title, Professor. It sounded odd to him, but he accepted it nonetheless. "Fine. May I be released?" He fought the urge to plea, that was undignified. Severus Snape would never be undignified. 

"If you promise to eat three times a day, no skipping meals!" Seeing his not, she turned. "You're far too thin as it is…" she muttered as she walked off.

A silent cheer came from within him as he sat up. He detested the colour white. It hurt his eyes and reminded him of the snow glare from atop a mountain in wintertime. _That probably says something about my personality,_ he thought. _Doesn't white have something to do with purity and all that nonsense?_ _I haven't been considered pure for a very long time._ After managing to turn his laugh into a snort, he got dressed in his habitual black robes and walked out of the Infirmary.

Moments later, he realized his mistake. He had forgotten to ask Pomfrey where he was to be staying. In fact, he didn't even know what day it was. There was no way for him to determine the amount of time he had spent in either Dumbledore's office or in the Infirmary. Feeling like a complete dunderhead, he became conscious that the time of day also remained uncertain. Inwardly cursing his mistake, he headed purposely for the Headmaster's office.

Before he could reach the gargoyle, however, he was accosted by the man himself. "Severus, child! Would you care for a lemon drop? My great-niece, the one who married the Muggle, sent me a bag. Delicious little things, they are." The Headmaster started ranting as soon as he was spotted.

"No, Headmaster." Severus responded, barely managing to keep the disdain from his voice and the roll from his eyes. 

"Your loss, I'm afraid." Dumbledore said, popping another one into his mouth. "Didn't Poppy instruct you to not miss a meal?" He inquired.

"Headmaster, one lemon drop is hardly a meal." Severus replied, annoyance evident in his voice.

"I'll be 'aving one, if ya don' mind, Headmaster." Hagrid said from behind Severus. "Good little things, them are. I need ter make a special trip to Honeydukes meself, just for some of 'em."

"Splendid, Hagrid!" The Headmaster cried cheerfully, offering the huge man one.

"Wut 'ave we 'ere, 'eadmaster?" Hagrid asked, directing his comments at Severus, who fought the urge to roll his eyes at the garbled speech. In fact, Hagrid's jumbled speech was even more muddled then usual, due to the lemon drop.

"Surly you remember Severus Snape, Hagrid. I daresay you picked him up off the lawn more then once." Dumbledore said, not bothering to notice Severus' expression darkening. 

"Why's 'e back, though, sir?" inquired Hagrid, the lemon drop had quite obviously been swallowed.

"I would prefer that you not carry on this conversation as if I was not present." Severus interrupted in one of the most condescending voices he could muster. Greeted by silence from the other two, he continued, "I shall be the new Potions professor here at Hogwarts." Feeling the little burst of energy that he had acquired from the silence that greeted his condescension, Severus threw in a sneer. He was rewarded by the overgrown man's raising of eyebrows, obviously Hagrid had thought Severus was still the _snivelling_ little child he had been in his school days.

"Yes, Severus will indeed be the Potions professor." Dumbledore confirmed, and for some reason he looked sadly at Severus. "I think there are a few situations to discuss, such as your living quarters and other miscellaneous things." Severus nodded, relieved he would not have to broach the subject. Suddenly he pictured himself looking at the Headmaster as a lost puppy would, and had to suppress a shudder.

"Well, Hagrid, I'll see you in a bit, dinner is only an hour away." The Headmaster said, and Severus had the feeling that he was not the only one in the room that had the talent of Legilimency. 

_Well, at least I won't have to admit to the fact that I'm completely clueless, it's certainly not something I'm used to or something I find pleasant._

Moments later, he was being led away to the dungeons to his new chambers. They were situated quite close to his office, which Severus found convenient. He had never paid much attention to where his teachers were when they were out of class. In fact, Severus had probably stupidly assumed that teachers didn't exist outside the classrooms.

_That they weren't people._ A nasty voice whispered in the back of Severus' head. Mentally shaking the voice off, he forced his mind to return to what the Headmaster was saying.

"Now, these rooms are rather bare, but I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to decorate them! You have all summer, you have conveniently chosen to appear the day after term is over." 

Severus barely managed to contain a snort at the thought of him decorating. Maybe he should conjure some red paint and toss droplets of it on the walls, if students ever dared to sneak in they would think it was blood. Not _that_ was a very amusing thought. Then he realized something. He was actually going to have to _teach_ Potions. Bloody hell.

"Headmaster," he started suddenly, interrupting Dumbledore's ranting about what colours might look nice in his rooms, "how long to I have to get to you the proposed programme of study?"

Pausing, Dumbledore stroked his beard. If Severus didn't know better, he might think that the Headmaster was senile. "Oh, sometime before the start of the term…" he muttered vaguely.

_Well, that was helpful. _Severus thought sarcastically to himself. A thought occurred to him, making him feel like a dunderhead for the second time that day.

"What am I going to tell the Dark Lord?" He asked, trying very hard to keep the mask he wore devoid of any emotions.

"Oh, that you're sorry that you suggested a change--" Dumbledore answered before he was cut off.

"How did you know about that?" Maybe the rumours were true and the Headmaster was omniscient. 

"You were muttering it to yourself when Poppy put you in that Healing Sleep." Dumbledore replied, the twinkling in his eyes becoming more apparent. Severus wondered what else he had muttered in his sleep.

"Ah." Was the only answer he could think of. 

"You classrooms are adjacent to your office, which is adjacent to your quarters. There is a storage cupboard that was recently filled by the Professor that last held the position, Professor Sparrow. I daresay that the Slytherins were upset to see their Head of House leave…"

Severus' interest was awakened. "Sir, who will the next Head of House be?"

"Oh, dear me! I must have forgotten to mention it." Dumbledore responded, the irritating twinkle in his eyes was really starting to bother Severus. "You are the only current former Slytherin on staff…"

Severus smirked, for some weird reason proud of this fact -- before the implications hit him. _Oh, no. The man is bloody insane! I could not possibly accept such a burden atop my spying duties. _Severus was quite aware of how many times the Head of House had had to talk several Slytherins out of suicide when he had been a student.

"I'm sure they'll take an immediate liking to you --" Severus snorted, for the moment forgetting his irritation with the man. "-- but, I've got to be off. You may use the floo to bring any belongings you wish over from your apartment." Then he dashed off, obviously aware of the displeasure Severus was feeling with him.

After a moment, Severus decided to go evaluate the state of the rest of these quarters, his office, and classroom. His private chambers were rather comfortable, although it saddened him to be leaving his apartment for most of the year. There was a master bedroom, with a bath the size of the prefects bath,. an extra bedroom, presumable for guests -- not that he would be having any. The only 'friends' he had were Death Eaters and fell into the category Those That Cannot Be Trusted. Something that he had not noticed before in the first room, the living room, was a rather ornate stone fireplace. Good, it often got cold down in the dungeons, from what he could remember from his school days. There was also enough room for a couch, and two chairs and a small table by the fireplace. And not to mention the space over by the door that presumably led to the office, it would be perfect for a desk.

_Well, _Severus thought,_ I might as well see the office, even if I do plan to do most of my work here. _He thought as he headed out the door.

The office was much darker than his rooms, and would probably terrify his students. He didn't know why that idea was such an appealing one. There were jars full of potions ingredients, they lined the walls. To someone not experienced with potions they would appear disgusting, but Severus rather fancied them to be works of art.

His classroom was the same one that he had been taught in as a student, and it momentarily disturbed him to think about the teacher he remembered from his school days living where he would be living. However, he reminded himself that he was supposed to be an adult, even if he was only nineteen, and the thought of living in his teacher's former quarters shouldn't bother him, even though he had only graduated two years ago.

He was going to be teaching people he went to school with, he realized suddenly. They're was no way that they would respect him! Hell, he would never have respected a nineteen year old Professor, even if he had been his Head of House.

_Damn it, Dumbledore_. He swore to himself. _Well, I'll just have to develop a plan to teach these dunderheads some respect. Oh, Merlin, what if I get a student like James Potter?_ Severus seriously doubted his own ability to control his temper if a student like Potter or his miserable friends showed their unwelcome faces in his classroom. Suppressing a sigh, he walked over to his desk at the front of the classroom. 

A desk he had often seen Professor Sparrow sit at, grading papers. 

__

Odd, he thought, spotting an envelope on the desk. Promptly, he picked it up and examined it. There was his name on it, _Severus Snape_, written in strangely loopy handwriting that Severus was sure he recognized but couldn't quite place.

Opening it up, he found two short pieces of parchment. One read:

"_This prophecy was made many years ago from a direct descendent of Cassandra, Prophetess of Doom. I have no doubt that it is one of the few prophecies that are valid."_

Snorting to himself, Severus didn't much care for this person's opinion as he had no idea who wrote this note. But it was interesting, a prophecy about him? Hopefully it hadn't anything to do with Doom, Severus had had enough of that, thank you very much. He read the other piece of parchment, his forehead creasing in confusion as he read:

"_Severus Snape will love the One Who Lives."_

_Wow, what an amazing prophecy! _Severus thought sarcastically. It appeared to him that this prophecy was one entirely based on nothing. "One Who Lives?" He muttered to himself, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards slightly betraying his amusement. Promptly, he shoved it in the bottom drawer of his desk and went off to dinner.

**A/N: **Okay, first off, I would like to thank all of the people who reviewed this. I would never have gotten out this chapter had it not been for all of you, you were my muse. (I have to admit to the guilty habit I have of suddenly stopping writing -- which I was quite close to doing.)

I would also like to admit to the fact that I know absolutely nothing about Cassandra, and if I mixed something up I apologize.

There was actually going to be more in this chapter, but for some reason I got into a good mood and this chapter turned out rather cheery. I suppose it's due to Dumbledore's lemon drops making an appearance that there was a distinct lack-of-angst in this chapter. I promise that there will be much, much more angst in the next one, I have it all planned out in my mind. The angst will be due to the Return of the Students… and we all know how much Severus loves students. I will use more of a motive for his angst, but you'll just have to wait and see what it is.

On another note: this story will focus mainly on Severus. He does _not _rescue Harry from the Dursley's. When I said that the main genre will be Angst, I did not mean Harry's angst. Repeat after me, people: Severus Snape… lmao. Hopefully this will be a slight change from the ordinary.

As to when Harry appears, chapter three. You haven't long to wait. (That is, of course, if I don't sink into depression and rebel against writing this story.) But if you review, I'm sure this won't happen. (I know it sounds like blackmail, but it's really not. I _do_ quite often rebel against writing fanfic.)

Boring and long and tiresome A/N, I know. 

Click the review button!


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